


Making Sure

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan wants to make sure that Danny won't follow him any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Sure

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for episode 4.07.

  
It was quite obviously a trap.  
  
Danny wasn’t an idiot. The trail he’d found when he’d emerged from the anomaly was far too clear, leading directly towards the tree-line, for him to infer anything other than the person who’d made it wanted to be followed.  
  
And considering who that person was, that meant a trap.  
  
That wasn’t going to stop Danny walking straight into it, though. He didn’t really have a choice, after all.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
It was cooler under the trees than it had been out in the grasslands where the anomaly was located, but not by much. And the lack of open space made air movement almost non-existent – it was stuffy and close, and Danny could feel the droplets of sweat trickling down from his hairline, and the dampness of his shirt stuck to his back.  
  
All sound seemed to be muffled, as well. The quiet was somewhat oppressive, and the lack of the normal sounds of nature indicated that there was something around that had frightened the local wildlife into silence.  
  
What Danny didn’t know was whether it was some kind of predator, or his prey.  
  
He doubled his vigilance.  
  
As it turned out, though, it wasn’t enough. Danny had managed for a year, but Patrick had been out here far longer. He’d obviously learned all the tricks of the survival trade.  
  
The attack was from the side, and fast enough for Danny to be pinned painfully against a tree before he could even think about fighting back. Molly was wrenched from his hands and tossed carelessly away, and then he was staring into Patrick’s – Ethan’s – eyes from mere inches away.  
  
“Following me, are you, big brother?” Patrick asked, seeming almost amused by the idea.  
  
“Well, you wanted me to,” Danny choked out. Patrick’s arm was pressed against his throat, making it difficult to breathe, never mind speak.  
  
Patrick appeared to think about this, and then nodded. “You’re right, I did.”  
  
“Not so anxious to get away from me, after all.”  
  
“It seems not.”  
  
The pressure on Danny’s windpipe eased a little, and he tensed, wondering if Patrick was going to let him go, and what he’d do if he did.  
  
But Patrick smiled at him, apparently reading Danny’s mind easily, and didn’t move any more. “Sorry, Danny. You didn’t think I was going to let you slip away now that I’ve got you just where I want you, did you?”  
  
Danny didn’t reply.  
  
“The question is, of course,” Patrick continued, “what am I going to do with you now that I’ve got you here?”  
  
“You’re not going to kill me, I know that much,” Danny grated. He knew it was a dangerous thing to say – Patrick was unstable enough that he might just kill Danny anyway, simply to prove him wrong. But somehow he knew what he was saying was the truth. “You couldn’t kill me at the ARC, and you won’t kill me now.”  
  
“Unfortunately, I think you may be right,” Patrick replied regretfully. “Which is damn shame, considering I’ve thought about nothing else for so many years. Seems I’m going soft in my old age.”  
  
Again, Danny said nothing.  
  
“However, that doesn’t mean I particularly want you chasing after me every hour of the day,” Patrick continued. He sneered. “Trying to _reform_ me, bleating on about how you know I can’t be as bad as I claim, and that you’re sure your wonderful little brother is still in here somewhere.” He leaned even closer to Danny, if that were possible. “Take it from me, big brother,” he said. “The Patrick you knew all those years ago is _not_ in here any more. He’s gone.”  
  
“To be replaced by this Ethan Dobrowski character, I suppose?” Danny said. “Tell me, where did he come from, then?”  
  
“He came from the necessity to survive,” Patrick hissed. “Being Patrick bloody Quinn nearly destroyed me out here. I had to find a way – a better way – to _survive_.”  
  
“By killing people?” Danny questioned, aware that once again he was walking the dangerous line.  
  
“Whatever it took,” Patrick replied, with a smile that was frankly terrifying. “But enough of this. I don’t really want to discuss my past any more. I want to talk about my future. And yours. The future in which you leave me alone and _stop_ following me. For good.”  
  
“You could have achieved that just by losing yourself here,” Danny pointed out.  
  
“Not good enough,” Patrick said. “I need to make _sure_.”  
  
“And how are you going to do that?” asked Danny.  
  
“By making it so that you don’t _want_ to follow me any more. By making it so that you’ll be perfectly happy if you never see me again.”  
  
“Never going to happen, Patrick.”  
  
“Oh, I think it is.”  
  
“Do your damnedest then,” said Danny, with a bravado that was tempered slightly by the smallest tendril of fear at what Patrick might be about to do.  
  
But whatever Danny might have imagined, it was nothing like what happened next. Patrick smiled that crazy smile again, and then moved away slightly (although still not enough to give Danny the leeway to attempt to break free) and pushed his free arm down into the scant inches of daylight between them.  
  
For a moment Danny couldn’t believe it. He could feel Patrick’s hand groping at his crotch, but he still didn’t believe it was actually happening.  
  
Then he started squirming, trying every trick he knew to push Patrick away, throw him off, _stop_ this.  
  
But although Patrick was smaller than him, years of wild living had given him enough strength to hold Danny in place. He had the upper hand in this encounter, and he wasn’t going to give it up easily.  
  
He pushed back, violently, roughly, pinning Danny anew against the tree, his hand never stopping its filthy, disgusting movements.  
  
“Patrick, _please_ , don’t do this,” Danny ground out, begging already, but with no other choice.  
  
To his utter horror and his eternal shame he could feel himself responding to Patrick’s manipulations – a physical reaction only, but a reaction nonetheless. The stimulation was making him hard, and he could tell Patrick had felt it by the expression on his brother’s (his _brother’s_ ) face.  
  
“Patrick, _stop_ ,” he tried again, voice hoarse with disgust.  
  
“I don’t think you want me to,” Patrick sing-songed in his face. “It seems to me that you’re enjoying yourself.”  
  
“I’m not, and you know it,” Danny ground out. “ _Stop_.”  
  
But Patrick didn’t stop – instead, his grip became a shade tighter, his massaging of Danny’s cock through his jeans a bit rougher.  
  
“I’m going to _make_ you,” he whispered. “I’m going to make you so ashamed you’ll never want to see me again because I’ll remind you of _this_.”  
  
Danny closed his eyes and turned his face away, the bark of the tree trunk rough against his cheek as he tried to block out what was happening to him. Patrick’s arm was pressing tightly against his throat again, and he could feel himself becoming a little light-headed as he struggled to breathe.  
  
The lack of oxygen seemed to be intensifying the other feelings in his body, and he could feel little tingles of sensation radiating out from his cock. Desperately, he tried to think dampening thoughts, but nothing seemed to work. A year of only his own hand on himself (and even then not very often – the lapse in concentration was dangerous, and he’d quickly realised that the scents created drew certain kinds of creatures) meant that his body wasn’t at all fussy when it came to being touched by someone else.  
  
Even if that someone else was his own brother.  
  
“Come on, Danny,” Patrick muttered. “You know you want to.”  
  
 _I don’t, I don’t, I don’t._  
  
But he couldn’t help it. Patrick squeezed again, sudden and vicious, and Danny felt his underwear grow damp as he came – not particularly hard (the circumstances wouldn’t allow for that, at least), but that didn’t stop the bright flush of shame that heated his skin.  
  
Patrick laughed, high and delighted and triumphant, and _finally_ stepped back, releasing Danny.  
  
Danny let himself crumple, sliding down the tree truck until he was huddled at the base of it. He knew he was still vulnerable, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care. For the first time he realised that this person that he’d found, after so many years, wasn’t Patrick. He wasn’t Danny’s little brother.  
  
He became aware that Patrick was crouching down in front of him, leaning close. Danny resisted the urge to shrink away. He still had _some_ dignity left, after all.  
  
“ _Don’t_ follow me any more,” Patrick murmured, his voice low and vicious. “I never want to see you again.”  
  
Then he stood, and Danny gathered himself and did likewise. He stared defiantly at Patrick.  
  
“I’m not going to give up on you, Patrick.”  
  
“Oh.” Patrick looked disappointed, like he’d suddenly realised he’d been wasting his time. “Well, in that case…”  
  
He swung a weapon that Danny hadn’t noticed off his back and pointed it at Danny. It was the tazer gun (what had they called it? An EMD?) he’d stolen from the guard outside his cell at the ARC.  
  
“Can’t follow me if you’re unconscious,” Patrick said. “And make no mistake, this time I won’t be leaving a trail for you to find when you wake up.”  
  
He pulled the trigger.  
  
Danny’s world turned black.


End file.
